


Book I: The Cursed Detective

by AyameAkuma



Series: The Crimson Mark [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Detective, Forensics, Friendship/Love, Hackers, Investigations, M/M, Murder, Mystery, Organized Crime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Police, Relationship(s), Thriller, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:15:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23070784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AyameAkuma/pseuds/AyameAkuma
Summary: My name is Akira Ryukazaki, 19 years old. Just a normal University student aiming to get a degree in Foreign Languages. Too bad the universe seems to hate me. Now, seeing how bodies seem to drop everywhere I go, I have to take matters in my own hands and play detective, whether the inspectors like me or not.~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Relationships: Original Female Character & Original Female Character, Original Female Character & Original Male Character, Original Male Character & Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character, Ryukazaki Akira/Amakusa Shin
Series: The Crimson Mark [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658053
Kudos: 1





	Book I: The Cursed Detective

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there, internet!  
> Ayame here and as I said, I came bearing a new work for all of you.  
> This is basically the result of my obsession with anything detective related.  
> Although it is an original work, it is heavily influenced by Detective Conan (manga and anime), Tantei Gakuen Q (my dear guilty pleasure) and by Agatha Christie's books (especially the Poirot series).  
> I just hope that you will enjoy this first book of "The Crimson Mark" series.  
> And yes, you have read it correctly. This is the first book out of three.  
> May God, Arceus, Lord Helix, and Jesus Bird watch over me and help me finish this series as well as my MHA x Assassination Classroom crossover as well.  
> Bye for now. See you soon hopefully!

_"A detective sees death in all the various forms at least five times a week."_

\- Evan Hunter-

***

\- _I am going to be late, late, LATE_! a young man thought, panicking while rushing down the crowded street while mumbling apologies to the people he would crash into.

His clothes and hair were messy. His jet black hair reached just a few centimeters past his shoulder and, while running, the young man had to run a hand through the strands that seemed set on obscuring his vision. In contrast to his hair, his fair skin, almost deathlike, and his silver eyes seemed to paint the image of a more-dead-than-alive person.

His dark blue jacket, wrinkled in some places, was loose around his slender body and left to flutter in the wind while he was running. Underneath his red tie was not straightened and, instead, left loose around his neck and the white shirt he wore seemed to be buttoned wrong. The pants had a similar dark blue color to his jacket and the white laces of his shoes looked like they were tied in a hurry - the knot coming loose after a few minutes of running, making the young man look constantly down to make sure he won't trip and fall.

" _Oh man, I hope I will get on time to the University or else Aragami-sensei will have my head on a silver plate along with_ ** _my unfinished homework_** _. Fuck!"_ swore the boy inside his head still rushing down the streets without stopping for one second although he looked about to fall over or trip due to his speed.

But the universe had other plans for the boy.

Down the street, there was an intersection, where if you would go straight you end up in front of a crosswalk. Next to the crosswalk was an antique shop in front of which some tourists, armed with cameras, and a young female reporter, possibly in her early twenties, with her partner, a male cameraman that looked thirty-something years old or so, the raven-haired boy thought when he observed them.

Although at first, one of the tourists appeared to be laughing at some remark made by his friends, his face instantly lost its rosy color and with a shaky hand, he pointed to something about three blocks away in the air. This caught the attention of not only his friends but also of the reporter and the cameraman, who, along with some of the tourists, started filming or taking photos of whatever they saw, despite the way their hands were shaking.

This caught the attention of the people around them. The raven-haired man, however, paid little to no attention.

Suddenly a screamwas heard, a sound that due to its feminine timbre the boy deduced it belonged to the young reporter, and as the boy came to a full stop while he watched horrified as the body of a man, oriented in such a way that the head was the first body part to make contact with the cold and hard asphalt, fell from the sky.

It happened way too fast.

 _ **Thud** \- _this very loud sound that carried a note of dread - was the only sound you could hear on the street. A dreadful silence fell over the once active and buzzing street while everyone tried to comprehend what just happened.

All eyes were focused on a horrific sight: the man who fell from the building sat now in a pool of his blood in front of the raven-haired boy. After the impact, the man's head smashed on the asphalt leaving behind just half of his face, the other half, now only bits and pieces, was either splashed on the pavement either smeared on the surrounding crowd's clothes. The man's limbs were twisted in an unsightly manner and on his clothes, which were just a white shirt and a pair of black office pants, the blood was visible as well as the bits of bone that was sticking out, some even cutting the clothes he wore.

After almost ten seconds the panic started making its presence known in the crowd. Some people covered their mouths with their hands, others just fell on their knees not knowing if they were dreaming or if this was reality. Some just froze and stood like that, watching the body on the pavement, without moving an inch. The parents tried to cover their children's eyes in an attempt to shield them from such a horror, although they knew the damage was already done. Others just screamed not knowing what to do.

The young man, who stood just feet away from the corpse, however, had a cold and analytical gaze while he looked over the body. He did not seem fazed in the slightest, not by the body in front of him, not by the bloody clothes he wore now, not even by the screams from the crowd. His voice was cold and collected and together with his face, now smeared with blood on his cheeks and pieces of flesh on his clothes, painted an even more horrific picture for the crowd who could do nothing but listen to his loud and clear words that resonated and cut through the screams of the crowd.

"Everyone, calm down! Someone should call the police. Until they come, no one should leave the scene or touch the body. Now, this is a possible crime scene and if any of you touch or disturb the body, the police have every right to assume that you had a hand in this man's death. Same with running away from the scene. So step away from the body, calm down and let's wait for the police. Understood?"

His words were like magic. Instantly, the crowd took two steps back from the corpse. Some people, after hearing the boy's words, started searching for their phones and when one of them found it the police were announced of this tragedy.

The crowd started murmuring and asking questions between themselves: "Who was this man?", "Was he murdered?", "Did he commit suicide?", "Is the criminal among us?" and so on.

The boy, however, remained unfazed by the crowd's questions and looked with exasperation and resignation at the corpse in front of him. From the distance, the sound of sirens could be heard, getting louder and louder by the second. The police were coming. They will take care of this for sure.

The boy did not feel the relief that the people around him did, judging by their obvious expressions filled with ease. Instead, he clenched his fists, expression grim and eyes fixed on the bloody image at his feet. One single line, louder than the commotion around him, louder than the police sirens, was swirling inside his mind, repeated over and over again, in a solemn, exhausted voice:

_"This is the third one this week..."_


End file.
